Day 115: Out of Whitehall and back to the CDT

Mileage: 24.3 miles (2136.3-2160.6)

I woke up to Laura calling me in the motel room. It felt early, but it was past seven. I needed sleep but also had been playing phone tag for awhile with her and wanted to talk. I had my eyes closed most of the time we talked, but was almost even more present only hearing her voice and not having any other stimulus.

After we finished talking I took a shower, packed my stuff, and then headed over to the local diner, where I had 'The Working Man's Breakfast', which was a wonderfully massive plate of biscuits and gravy with some eggs and hashbrowns. I had some OJ and coffee to wash it down and left the place quite satisfied with my $12 meal. Whitehall really had the best places to eat I'd seen on the trail for awhile: affordable, big portions, and served with friendly that small town sorta vibe.

Afterwards I stopped by the post office to grab my new pair of shoes my mom had sent and since the old ones weren't holey rags attached to my feet, I sent those ones back home for later use. Putting the new ones on in the Post Office, I could feel how much cushion the last pair had lost, and thought maybe the old ones might just be good for mowing the lawn.

I set out on Highway 2 around 11:30am after dropping some extra food in front of the Lutheran Church. I couldn't bear to throw it away, though in reality they might have to since a lot of it was food I'd packaged myself in ziplocks.

I walked the highway until it hit Delmoe Lakes Road, where I passed some old Hot Springs shortly thereafter. I walked down the side road towards them but was greeted with 'No Trespassing' signs everywhere, so though I could see the old cabins, guesthouse, and probably the hot springs itself, I decided to turn around, the day before still fresh in my mind. I could have asked permission to bathe, but I was too tired to go through all that. While I was down there admiring the old buildings in the fields of bright yellow sunflowers, I once again heard the mysterious almost cluck of a

few Sandhill Cranes. I couldn't see them, but their distinctive voices gave them away.

I continued down the road, passing under I-90 and began the ascent towards Delmoe Lake where I would rejoin the CDT. A nice couple and their kids stopped and chatted with me for a few minutes and they gave me some extra water and a handful of potato chips. The man added he might be in the Bob Marshall Wilderness, just south of Glacier National Park in a few weeks and I told him I might see him there depending on the fires.

I also talked to Karma and Maniac for the first time in awhile, and they were leaving Helena, about 90 trail miles ahead of me. If they didn't take more zeroes it was gonna be hard for me to catch them. Even if I did 30's for each of their 25 mile days, it would still take almost 3 weeks for me to catch up. And at that point, they might be already finished. We all agreed it'd be great if I could catch them, but nobody can really afford to just sit around at this point not only because of we're all running out money, but more importantly, time.

I said goodbye and told them to keep me posted on the fires, hoping I might somehow catch them as I already had once before down in Pie Town. I kept pushing, finally getting back on the CDT near Delmoe Lake around 5pm. I finished out the day around 8:30pm with some mellow ascents and descents, eventually joining the Nez Pearce Trail, which apparently was no longer the official CDT. Checking out my map I realized it had been rerouted in 2014, though this trail would intersect with the new tread in about seven miles so it wasn't a big deal. I found a spot to camp, hung my food, and headed for bed.

Day 114: Smoke in the Tobbaco Roots and Whitehall

Mileage: 31.6 miles (2104.7-2136.3)

I slept until 7am and my body was sore and tired when I woke up. I can feel the wear of five months on me in every muscle, tendon, and bone - not to mention in my brain. The smoke had already settled into the valley and its acrid smell made me a little queasy.

I went downhill to South Boulder Creek and the road which followed it north. I started the ascent to 7,800' up some beautiful trail and winding switchbacks. Unfortunately the views were obscured by layers of smoke, but I could see the closer peaks at least, rising to above 10,000'.

I descended from there and after another minor ascent I left the beautiful constructed trail to a forest road, which eventually took me down to the Jefferson River. By five I made it to the river, emerging form the rolling sagebrush hills to flat, ranchland. The bridge was out, but I decided to cross anyways rather than take a 3 mile detour. The river was high and running fast, but I lengthened my poles to steady myself, and made it across with the water never getting above my thighs. 

On the other side I followed Cottonwood Road until it hit a gate that said, "No Tresspassing - Keep Out" I only needed to take the road for another mile to connect to the main road, so I figured I'd just move quickly and it would be fine. And it was fine, until I ran into the two horseback riders. The man promptly informed me I had to turn around and go back the way I came. I apologized and asked if I could just go to the main road and Whitehall as I'd already walked 25 miles today. He hesitated, but then agreed that would be fine. He said I'd have to cross the river again and trespass somewhere else, but that was the quickest way to Whitehall. I said "ok", apologized again, and thanked him. I walked more quickly, crossed the river again, and then had to hop a fence or two before I crossed a field and got to the main road. There were houses on each side, which made me nervous so I was happy to make it to the road before I had another confrontation.

I walked into town and headed to the Chief Motel where I had the best meal so far in Montana, which included a fresh salad, beer, chips and salsa, and a burrito smothered in homemade green chili. To top it off I had a brownie sundae. Somehow my bill was only $16 for that tremendous amount of food. I headed back to my room, watched TV and fell asleep by around ten.

Day 113: Into the Tobacco Root Mountains

Mileage: 25.5 miles (2079.2-2104.7)

I slept in until close to 7:45 and had to wait until 9:15 for the post office to open anyways, so I figured I misewell sleep as long as I could. Plus, I'd stayed up until almost midnight watching the Shawshank Redemption and a show about former Nebraska football player, N'Domukin Suh, badly titled "A Man named Suh." Johnny Cash would roll over in his grave. But the program itself wasn't half bad and despite his bad reputation anyone from Nebraska still loves Suh for the years of havoc we got to witness on opposing quarterbacks.

I microwaved my two breakfast sandwiches, wishing I'd gotten something healthier, like a banana or five, but once again I had resupplied at a gas station just because it was the closest thing to the Fan Mountain Inn. There was a full grocery store in town, I had just been too lazy to walk there. I really do need to eat better though - I have barely eaten anything besides sweets on the trail and greasy crap off the trail and I already have high blood pressure despite my activity level. I just eat way too much salt, but it's hard to moderate that when you shop at a gas station most of the time, but I could definitely do better.

It was mostly road walking today, which isn't to say that it wasn't scenic (who doesn't love a good double negative?) Anyhow, there were some pretty radical rock formations sticking straight up out of the ground, cliffs that almost reminded me of old climbing spots back in New Hampshire, though these were just off the road on private land. I mused about if people climbed there as the rock looked solid and there was much to explore.

Eventually, I crossed over into Beaverhead National Forest and the road became less and less maintained, though it was quite good for a forest road. I topped out around 7,400' before descending to South Willow Creek for dinner and a break. I ate ramen at the Creek's edge, not even noticing the beautiful log cabin behind me in the woods until I packed up. I observed a woman raking leaves and headed on my way.

I was beginning a big ascent up to nearly 10,000 ft, which I wanted to get out of the way before tomorrow. I hate waking up having to do a big climb. So I climbed and climbed up winding forest roads littered with rocks and potholes. The dirt was dry and I kicked up a chalk like dust as I walked, with its smell bringing me back to banging erasers together in first grade, when we still had chalkboards.

The smoke from the fires in Idaho and northern Montana was the heaviest I'd seen it, creating a haze hanging over the valley like the smog which looms grimly over cities like Denver and Los Angeles. I could barely make out the 10,000' peaks which were within a mile or two - they were only vague outlines of themselves with the sun setting behind them.

It did make for a good sunset though. The sun looked like a molten red disc, slowly sinking into the sky like an iceberg melts into the sea on a warm spring day. The acrid smell of smoke permeated my nostrils, no matter how high I got or how strong the wind blew. I felt as if a volcano had erupted miles away, yet the smoke and debris was settling down. As far as I knew, there wasn't a fire within 100 miles, yet this isn't too far to blow considering the fires are covering tens of thousands of acres in Idaho and Montana.

I finally topped out at Nicholson Mine Pass near Horse Peak and began my descent, looking for a place to camp as the light faded. I passed by a few old mining cabins and equipment on the way down and tried to imagine the lives of the men who lived and worked up here looking for gold. All that was left now was the old equipment like rusted barrels, steel cable, and broken machinery. I made it down close to the river as it began to get dark. I hung my food and setup camp, getting ready to do it all over again tomorrow.

Day 112: Out of the Spanish Peaks and into Ennis

Mileage: 30.5 miles (2048.7-2079.2)

I woke up around 5:30am and got going by six. It was still dark and two tiny owls flew up to me when I got out of my tent. They seemed attracted to my headlamp and they took turns swooping down towards my light.

I headed down from Mirror Lake all the way back to 7,000 ft and then started back up again on the High Lakes Trail switchback after switchback once again. The sun finally peaked out around nine and I felt it's pale warmth against my skin. 

After coming over the pass I went cross-country up to Marcheta Lake. The way wasn't so bad on the way up, but it was steep and the rock was loose. I managed to get down and then crossed over boulder fields and then up a steep slope with Chiquita Lake below me. This was the scariest part of the day, where one slip could have been disastrous, but it wasn't really too bad. I just had to be careful not to slip.

I eventually made it to the Jourdain Ridge Trail where it wasn't so much a trail, but high alpine meadow with cairns leading the way. I kept smelling what I thought was campfire, but what I think I was actually smelling was the forest fires from Idaho. The smoke was making its way to Montana and it was hazy as hell because of it.

I worked my way down all the way to 5,800 ft and Ennis Lake down horse trails past Mule deer and Bald and Golden Eagles, leaving the mountains and entering Sagebrush territory once again. I got to the Highway by 4pm and got a hitch down to Ennis by 4:30, which allowed me to grab my stuff from the post office before everyone left for the day. I got a motel, resupplied at a gas station, and had burger and onion rings at local ice cream joint. Then watched TV and headed for bed.

Day 111: Into the Spanish Peaks Wilderness

Mileage: 23.5 miles (2025.2-2048.7)

I woke up around 7am and said bye to Maranda, my host. I had two slices of leftover pizza and then got coffee and a breakfast sandwich at the co-op across the street, before I walked over to Walmart a little before nine and caught the bus down to Big Sky. The driver said he couldn't let me out at the trailhead, but the closest stop was the Visitor Center. I hitched back a few miles from there and then made my way down the road to the Deer Creek Trailhead.

It was steady up for over five miles and then I lost almost all of it going down. I passed some beautiful alpine lakes and then wound my way up seemingly endless switchbacks. It hailed on me for a few minutes but then it cleared up again. The mountains here were made of big piles of boulders and rocks, with the occasional cliff face here and there.

Trail was indistinct at times, but cairns guided me pretty well along the way to Hell Roaring Creek. Then I started up again after a quick snack break. Up and up and up until finally I reached some cool subalpine meadows and had tremendous views of the surrounding ridges and peaks. I climbed up actually endless switchbacks until I finally reached the pass and was rewarded with sweeping views in all the directions. With the sun beginning to set, looking back to the south and east the peaks glowed a fiery orange. 

As I headed down I startled three mountain goats, sporting their new summer do's. The last time I'd seen goats they were in full winter regalia, so it was neat to see them with their more sporty look. After the initial scare, they didn't seem to mind me too much as I snapped a few photos.

Then back up switchbacks again and down into the Spanish Fork Creek basin and down to Mirror Lake, where I setup camp for the night. Looking back at the peaks, they glowed even brighter gold and orange now, illuminated by the setting sun. They were quite impressive peaks, some over 11,000 ft, while most were in the range were around 10,000 ft.

As I ate dinner next to the lake a beaver swam around and checked me out, and a tiny Least Weasel kept hopping over to me, probably looking for a morsel. After hanging my food I turned in for the night.

Day 110: Zero in Bozeman

Mileage: Zero!

I slept in until 8:30 and took a long, hot shower. I went to the gas station to resupply since I just needed a day or two and also picked up two breakfast sandwiches. I talked to Laura for a bit and tried to help her get over making a tiny mistake or two while guiding her trip across country and then I scheduled my massage.

My feet ached and I was long overdue. Unfortunately, everything was either closed or booked, including the place I eventually got into - I told them I was walking from Mexico and that eventually got them to squeeze me in.

Before my massage I went to a coffee shop and caught up on my blogging and had a wonderful cappuccino. I talked to my mom and then Laura some more and then headed over for the massage.

It was absolutely wonderful. My massage therapist was young, but very good. She really focused on my legs and feet, which was something new for me. I'd never specifically asked for this until now and the foot and calf massage were especially amazing. She told me, "Yeah, not many people can withstand an elbow to the calf, but your muscles are like taut ropes." We both wished we had two hours to work out all the knots, but she did stretch my hour to more like 80 minutes so I was extremely grateful for that. 

Afterwards, they gave me a pass to the adjoining fitness club and I went and ran 20 miles just to stay in shape. Haha, just kidding. I actually went to the dry sauna and just tried to sweat out some toxins, while I rehydrated. Then I met up with the friend of a friend who was putting me up for the night. She informed me we were seeing the new Mission Impossible movie and I was pumped. I was enthralled by the big screen and comfy seats, as well as the non-stop action. After the movie we got a Safeway pizza and split it before bed with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a beer. 

Day 109: Over the Gallatin Crest Trail and into Bozeman

Mileage: 18.5 miles (2006.7-2025.2)

I left around 7am from Ramshorn Lake, with a lot of up at beginning of the day, ending up on top of a beautiful crest. I talked to Laura and while I was looking out a Golden Eagle soared right by me at eye level only 20 feet away. It was a huge and beautiful bird, dark brown with an almost golden nape and shoulders. I'd never seen the golden hue of the bird so clearly.

I headed up and down the crest with a nice wind cooling my sweat as I went. There were awesome views of the gentle Gallatin Crest, which I would follow for the next ten miles or so. It was great mellow walking, admiring the sharp metamorphic rock on the Eastern side of the divide.

I ran into a guy who'd just seen a Wolf settle into some trees. He had a spotting scope which could see critters from more than two miles away. He thought there might be a den so we went and checked it out together.

He was from Bozeman and hunted Elk in the area so was just checking it out to see what was going on earlier in the season. He was a cool dude but we didn't find the wolf. The terrain was hillier than we thought so the wolf probably had wandered out the back while we approached. His bed in the grass was still warm.

I headed back to my pack and down the trail up Eaglehead Peak at just under 10,000'. There were cool views of the crest northward and back to south where I came from all the way to Yellowstone. I began my descent that would end at the highway at 6,000' first on a trail and then the last six miles on a dirt road. Even the road had scenic views of the dense spruce-fir forest. I saw a few helicopters moving gravel and then on highway a nice lady gave me a bottle of water, nectarine, and a sandwich. She was headed towards Big Sky, but soon after a kid stopped and picked me up. His name was Danny and he was a student at Montana St. Also, he was a climber and pointed out some cool spires people climb above the Gallatin River.

He got me a free burrito and dropped me off at my motel. I did laundry and watched TV and fell asleep early.